• Highest Ranking #1 in Bulimia •
•Highest Ranking #1 in Free Mental Illness •
He's a quarterback struggling with a secret eating disorder that's destroying his life.
She's a food-fanatic who loves every curve in her beautiful body.
When their scho...
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"No," Mama says, shaking her head. "Absolutely not."
"It's just an opportunity, mama." I retort, standing up from the sofa. "This could mean publicity- I want to be a chef, I need to get a following- somewhere."
"But modeling?" Mama says, raising her voice, "Cira- don't you understand how competitive modeling is. How toxic, I don't want you growing up in that environment."
"It was just an idea," I say weakly, letting my guard down. "It's not every day someone tells me I can be a model,"
My mom smiles gently. "Cira you're beautiful. More beautiful than those Kardashes-"
"-Kardashians mama."
"Yes. Whatever." My mama says with a soft laughter that rings in my ear. "My point is. You don't need validation from others, you just have to know that you're beautiful."
"You're just saying that because you're my mother." I sigh. Isn't it legally binding if your a mother to tell your child they're beautiful, talented, intelligent?
"No, I'm saying it because I was considered gorgeous when I was young, and you're prettier than me when I was seventeen." She leans in suddenly, "Plus your personality is extremely beautiful."
I roll my eyes, classic. Great personality.
My mama chuckles, brushing a stray lock of my brown hair aside. "When did your hair get so long." She sighs.
"I'm thinking about cutting it," I reply, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger. "Dying it pink-"
"Why would y-" My mama starts, her eyes wide and alarmed. She notices my bemused expression and frowns with a scoff. "You're so funny." Mama slumps up from our leather sofa and adjusts her cardigan, "Help me with dinner wise guy."
"Of course. What are we making today."
"Vegetable Lo mien."
"Ohhh!" I gush, "With the bok choy I got yesterday at the farmers market?"
"Yes." Mama replies her eyes twinkling. I wonder what she would have done if I was a picky eater. This family loves food too much.
...
I plop down on my bed, rolling onto my stomach and kicking my legs up.
I scroll through snapchat, replying to my friend's silly snaps, and endless streaks. Suddenly my phone rings out- a call from an unknown number. It's probably a spam, but I answer it none the less.
"Hey?" I ask. I'm responded by silence until I hear someone clear their throat.
"Hello. I'm Elaina Hyde. I work with Davan Mclain, I'm her agent."
